The Addams Family
by Broadway Wednesday
Summary: Chapters are based on the Addams Family Trading cards, focusing on the tv show.
1. Gomez

**a/n: Hi guys, this is my next multi-chapter fic. Each chapter is going to be based upon the phrases on the Addams Family trading cards. This first chapter is 'Gomez', and since that wasn't much to go off, it's just following him through his morning.  
I hope you enjoy. I'll update soon, and just so you know, I am nearly finished 'Where Did We Go Wrong', and you can expect an update on that before the weekend.  
Please read and review, so I can know what you think. Feel free to point out any mistakes or if I go out of character anywhere. **

When Gomez woke up that morning the sun was already blazing through the bedroom window. He turned his head to his delicious wife, wrapping a gentle hand around her waist. She snuggled closer to him in reaction to his touch, but did not awaken. Gomez stared at the beauteous creature that lay before him, her eyes lightly shut, and hair slightly disturbed from sleep.  
The morning sun felt as if it were piercing his back like a knife. The light it cast landed on Morticia's face and caused her pallor to illuminate. He lifted a strand of hair to his lips and lightly kissed it.  
_So lucky,_ he thought, _to have found my true love and to be able to hold her every night.  
_She stirred. Her blue eyes stared directly into his brown ones.  
"Gomez," she mumbled, waking up.  
"Here, cara mia," replied Gomez softly.  
He released her waist gently, as she slowly sat up.  
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice thick from sleep.  
Gomez, too, sat up and looked towards his bedside table, he picked up a pocket watch and a wrist watch, comparing them he replied, "Almost ten o'clock."  
"We've overslept," said Morticia, "the children will be late for school."  
"Cara," replied Gomez emphatically, "it's Sunday!"  
"Oh?" responded Morticia, "oh well. In that case, will you join me in the garden for breakfast?"  
Gomez replied by raising her fingers to his lips, "Anywhere with you, Tish."  
Morticia smiled modestly at him, "Bubele."

The door to their bedroom swung open, hitting the wall as it did so, Morticia and Gomez broke apart in shock.  
"Mummy, Daddy," it was Wednesday.  
She walked in, followed by Pugsley, who was holding a tray full of breakfast foods; scrambled vulture eggs and the like.  
"Morning Mother, good morning Father," Pugsley addressed his parents.  
"Good morning darlings," smiled Morticia affectionately.  
"What have you got there?" asked Gomez.  
"Breakfast sir," replied Pugsley.  
"Grandmama helped us make it," added Wednesday proudly.  
Morticia patted the bed beside her, Wednesday hurried over and climbed up beside her mother. Pugsley walked cautiously, so as not to spill the drinks that were on the tray. Gomez took the tray from him as he neared so the boy could climb up onto the bed.  
"What a _lovely_ surprise," Morticia beamed at her children.  
Gomez lay the tray between himself and his wife.  
"It looks absolutely delicious," continued Morticia.  
"I'll say Tish," said Gomez, "just look at this broiled salmon eye, now I know Mama can't make that, it must be the work of our Wednesday."  
Wednesday blushed and nodded, "Uh huh, Lurch showed me how to last week."  
"I made the toast," announced Pugsley.  
"And it's perfect darling," replied Morticia, "nice and dry and black."  
"And Grandmama poached the eggs," said Wednesday, "in her cauldron."  
"How resourceful," said Gomez thoughtfully.  
"Are you going to try it?" asked Pugsley, smiling.  
"Of course dear," said Morticia.  
Morticia put some yak's butter onto a piece of toast as Gomez filled his fork with fish eye. The pair smiled at each other with their eyes as they raised the food to their mouths.  
Morticia raised a hand to her chin to catch the crumbs that broke away from the toast as she bit into it. Gomez's eyes widened at the taste, he took another forkful.  
"This is delicious, Wednesday," he said enthusiastically.  
"The most divine toast," added Morticia.  
The children beamed.  
"Thank you darlings," continued Morticia.  
After another bite of the toast, Pugsley spoke up, "Father, can Wednesday and I play with your trains?"  
"I knew there was a reason behind this breakfast," exclaimed Gomez, he eyed the two children, "of course you can, why don't you go and ask Uncle Fester if he can run the power for you."  
"Thank you Father," the children shouted over their shoulders as they ran out of the room.

Gomez put down his fork and reached for the henbane tea, pouring himself and Morticia a cup each.  
"They had good intentions, but perhaps a few cooking lessons…" trailed off Gomez.  
"A bit chewy dear?" asked Morticia.  
He nodded as he drank from his cup, handing Morticia hers.  
"Perhaps I'll take them down to the kitchen today and have them help me prepare lunch..." said Morticia.  
Gomez swallowed the last of his tea, "Shall we get ready for the day?"  
Morticia nodded, swallowing her own tea. She put the cup down on the tray beside Gomez's. Standing up she took the tray and pulled a noose from the ceiling.

"You rang?" droned Lurch almost instantly.  
"Yes Lurch," replied Morticia as she handed him the tray, "would you take this to the kitchen, make sure the children don't see you," she turned to Gomez, "they would be so heart broken if they knew we couldn't finish it all."  
"Yes, Mrs. Addams," replied Lurch as he turned around and exited with the tray.

Gomez watched from his place on the bed as Morticia made her way to their wardrobe.  
"Now, what should I wear today?" she mumbled to herself, observing her options.  
"That one," replied Gomez pointing, "it makes you look so enticing."  
"Very well," Morticia nodded and retrieved one of the many black dresses from the wardrobe. Then she made her way over to the chest of drawers and pulled out a pin striped suit for Gomez, she carried it over to him.

They got dressed in silence, once both were ready Gomez offered a hand, which Morticia took elegantly.  
They made their way into the garden.

Morticia knocked on one of Thing's boxes, "Good morning Thing," she smiled as he emerged.  
Thing waved at her.  
"Thing," asked Morticia, "may I have the zebra burger for Cleopatra?"  
Thing ducked back into his box and, a moment later, returned with a small bowl of meat.  
"Thank you Thing," said Morticia as she took the bowl.  
Thing saluted in reply and went back into his box, shutting the lid behind him.

Gomez took the bowl from his wife's delicate hand, "I'll hold it for you Tish."  
"Thank you Gomez," Morticia eyed him, "you're so gallant."  
"Tish, when you look at me like that," warned Gomez.  
"Patience Bubele," interrupted Morticia, "Cleopatra first, us later."  
"Yes, yes," replied Gomez, bashfully.  
He watched as Morticia reached into the bowl, retrieving the silver fork. She pierced a piece of burger with it and held the food delicately out to the plant.  
"Darling," she cooed, "come as see what Mother has for you."  
The plant perked up at the sound of her voice and greedily gobbled the food from the fork.  
Gomez watched Morticia's long fingers as they stroked what could be passed as the plant's chin, they lingered momentarily and then dropped down to her side. She turned slightly and put the fork through another piece of meat. She swayed her hips as she turned back to her plant, offering the food to her.  
Morticia repeated the slow, delicate process as she fed another piece of burger to her beloved Cleopatra.  
"Tish," said Gomez, "you're teasing."  
"Am I?" asked Morticia coyly, as she turned back to her plant yet again, "Bubele," she added after a moment.  
Gomez moaned at his lack of self control as he threw the bowl over his shoulder and took his wife in his arms.  
"Gomez," said Morticia, shocked as she looked at the broken bowl and spilled meat, "you're so impetuous."  
"And you, Cara Mia, are so enticing," responded Gomez as he began to caress her fingers with his lips.

A cough sounded behind them. The pair looked up, there stood Fester and the children.  
Morticia stood up immediately, Gomez reluctantly released her.  
"Do you know what these two did?" asked Fester.  
"No, darling," replied Morticia, she looked at the children, "what did you do?"  
"Well, Wednesday and me," started Pugsley.  
"Wednesday and I, dear," corrected Morticia.  
"No Mother," interrupted Wednesday, "it was me and Pugsley, I know, you weren't there."  
Gomez held back a laugh.  
"Anyway," continued Pugsley, "Wednesday and _I_ were just playing with the trains."  
"No Pugsley," said Wednesday, "you forgot to tell them, how we made Uncle Fester, blow a fuse."  
"Well, I'm sure they didn't mean it," said Morticia, looking back up at Fester.  
"Didn't mean it!" exclaimed Fester, hurt, "Look at this," he pulled a broken lightbulb from his pocket, "they made it blow up."  
"Would have thought you'd like that," said Gomez.  
"Well," mumbled Fester, "I would have, but this one was my favourite."  
"Children," Morticia addressed her offspring, "I'm sure you didn't mean to blow up your Uncle's favourite lightbulb, but you should apologise."  
"I'm sorry Uncle Fester," said Wednesday to Fester.  
"Me too," agreed Pugsley.  
"Well children," said Gomez, "you'll have to do some chores for Fester to pay him back for his lightbulb."  
"But," started the children.  
"No 'buts'," Morticia held a hand up, "you listen to your father."  
"All right Mother," replied Wednesday.  
"Yes Mother," resigned Pugsley.  
Fester harrumphed.  
"Children, why don't you go and help Uncle Fester put a new coat of wax on his head," suggested Gomez.  
"Oh, that would be nice," said Fester, "it is starting to go a bit dull."  
The children hung their heads as they followed Fester back into the main part of the house.

"I thought you handled that admirably Tish," Gomez told her.  
"As did you, Bubele."  
"Tish!" exclaimed Gomez.  
She smiled at him, offering a hand.  
"It's later," he said as he began to caress her fingertips.  
"Oui," replied Morticia.  
"Tish, that's French!"


	2. Somebody Drank My Embalming Fluid

"Morticia!" the shrill cry rang out through the darkness of the stormy morning, "Morticia!"

Morticia rose with grace from her chair, placing her knitting on the seat as she did so, "Was that Fester, darling?" she asked her husband.

He shrugged, "I suppose so, although I was hoping it was a banshee."

"Darling, you're a dreamer," Morticia said as she stroked his cheek, momentarily forgetting the cry…until it sounded again.

"Morticia!" Fester walked into the room.

"By George," exclaimed Gomez, "it was Fester!"

"What it is, Uncle Fester dear?" asked Morticia with concern.

"Somebody drank my embalming fluid," he moaned.

"Uncle Fester, are you sure?" asked Gomez.

Fester nodded vigorously, "I'm sure, I bet it was Mama!"

"Mama!" exclaimed Morticia with shock, "she wouldn't do such a thing!"

"I bet she would," argued Fester, "she is getting more and more selfish, haven't you noticed Morticia?"

"No, of course not," said Morticia, "are you sure _you_ didn't drink the embalming fluid, Uncle Fester?"

"Why, Morticia!" said Fester, offended, "how could you even ask me such a thing?"

"Well," said Morticia thoughtfully, "you do remember the last time…?"

Gomez suppressed a laugh, "Ah yes, when you poured your cyanide into a glass because you needed the bottle, and then you drank it, thinking it was pond water."

Morticia smiled, "That was amusing."

"Well, this isn't like that!" argued Fester.

Mama entered the room, carrying a rusty bucket full of meat, "Did someone say my name a moment ago?"

"Mama," said Fester accusingly, "have you had anything to drink lately?"

"Now that you mention it," replied Mama, "I am a little thirsty, I'll have some henbane tea, thank you for offering Fester."

"He wasn't offering you a drink Mama," explained Gomez, "he was accusing you of drinking his embalming fluid."

"Fester!" exclaimed Mama, shocked, "you know that I don't drink cyanide! It ruins my complexion."

"Oh yes, I forgot, sorry Mama."

"Now you see," said Morticia, "you shouldn't go around accusing people."

"Well, if it wasn't Mama, and it wasn't me," Fester thought aloud, then he paused, "it wasn't you, was it Morticia, Gomez?"

Both shook their heads simultaneously in the negative.

"Hmmm," continued Fester, "it must have been Pugsley!"

"Ah hah!" exclaimed Gomez triumphantly.

"Gomez," reprimanded Morticia, "you don't suppose our son would do anything like that?"

"Who's to say," said Fester, "but I bet if we interrogated him, he'd confess in an instant."

Mama continued on her way to feed the alligator. Morticia and Gomez, led by Fester, shuffled and walked up the stairs to the bedroom with the two baby vultures painted on the door.

Fester knocked on the door with vigour.

"Come in," came the reply.

Fester opened the door to reveal Pugsley, sitting by himself at his table. There were two places set, each with an empty plate, and an empty tea cup.

"Oh," Pugsley sounded disappointed, "I thought you were Wednesday. She was getting the tea for our tea party, but she hasn't come back."

"Pugsley! You and Wednesday are both _much_ too young to take tea," scolded Morticia.

"We weren't going to use real tea," explained Pugsley, "Wednesday just went to get the teapot, we were just going to pretend there was tea in. But she hasn't come back yet."

"Enough of that," interrupted Fester, annoyed, "Did you drink my embalming fluid?"

"Your what?" asked Pugsley.

"You heard me, embalming fluid," repeated Fester.

"No," Pugsley shook his head.

"He's lying," Fester complained to Morticia and Gomez.

"Fester!" exclaimed Morticia, "our children do not lie!"

Gomez nodded his head in agreement with his wife.

"Well then," thought Fester, "if it wasn't you two, and it wasn't Pugsley, and it wasn't Mama, then…it must have been Lurch!"

They left Pugsley where he was and went into the hall. Fester, very determinedly, pulled the noose that was hanging from the ceiling.

"You rang?" Lurch arrived almost instantly.

"Yes Lurch," answered Fester, "did you drink my embalming fluid?"

Lurch groaned loudly.

"There you go, it wasn't Lurch," said Gomez.

"Thank you Lurch, you may go," said Morticia, she turned to Fester, "are you _sure_ you didn't drink it yourself?"

"Positive," replied Fester. He started counting on his fingers, mumbling, "…and it wasn't Lurch…"

Morticia and Gomez watched with interest as he began to narrow down on the answer.

"Thing!" exclaimed Fester, it must have been Thing!"

"Thing!" repeated Gomez loudly.

"Gomez," Morticia called him out, "Thing can't drink embalming fluid, it makes him ill."

"Oh of course," Gomez looked down, ashamed for even thinking such a thing.

Morticia stroked his cheek, "Bubele," she said affectionately.

Fester was back to counting on his fingers, shaking his head, "Who have I missed…?" he was mumbling to himself.

"Mummy," a small cry rang out.

"Oh, of course it must have been Wednesday!" cried out Fester in triumph.

Morticia shushed him, turning her head as she tried to locate where the call came from, she gave up, "Where are you darling?" she asked, gently, but loud enough to be heard.

"Here," replied Wednesday, vaguely and quietly.

This time Gomez heard where the sound came from, he took Morticia's hand and led her to the bathroom down the hall.

Morticia swung the door open. There was Wednesday, sitting on the tiled floor, her knees pressed up to her chin, leaning against the bathtub.

She looked up as her mother entered the room, "I don't feel so good," she moaned softly.

Morticia shared a look with Gomez before shuffling into the room, and, after a bit of manoeuvring in her tight dress, managed to sit down on the floor beside Wednesday.

"What's wrong darling," she asked gently.

Wednesday moaned again, "My tummy."

Morticia put her arms around the small girl and tenderly rubbed her stomach. She looked up to the doorway, where Gomez and Fester stood.

"Wednesday?" she asked seriously, "did you eat or _drink_ anything that you didn't know what it was?"

Wednesday was quiet for a moment, then she replied quietly, "I drank something on the kitchen counter, I was looking for something for me and Pugsley to use as tea."

"Ah hah!" cried Fester, "I have found the culprit!"

"Fester, please," strained Morticia, "not now."

"Sorry Morticia," apologised Fester.

"Come, Fester, I think I have some embalming fluid in our poisons cabinet," Gomez tried to reconcile as he patted Fester on the back.

Casting one last look at his wife and daughter he led Fester out of the bathroom.

Morticia smiled sympathetically at Wednesday, "Do feel up to moving darling? Or do you think you're going to be sick?"

Wednesday shook her head and snuggled into her mother, Morticia sighed and wrapped an arm protectively over her daughter's back.

A short while later, Morticia tried again, "Darling, do you want to go and lie in your bed?"

Wednesday looked up at her mother, her eyes were moist with tears, she slowly nodded her head.

"All right darling, let me stand up."

Wednesday moved away from Morticia to allow her to stand. Morticia then offered a hand and helped a wobbly Wednesday up to her feet.

"Can you walk darling?" asked Morticia.

Wednesday nodded bravely.

The pair made their way into Wednesday's room, with the small girl leaning on her mother for support. Morticia helped Wednesday into her nightgown and then into her bed.

She felt the girl's head, "Nice and clammy," she remarked.

Gomez entered the room, "How is she?" he asked, looking at Wednesday, who was starting to drift off into sleep.

Morticia shook her head, "I suppose she reacts to embalming fluid the same way that Thing does."

Gomez nodded, walking over to the bed, he stroked his daughter's hair, "I gave Fester our embalming fluid on her behalf."

Morticia nodded, "Very thoughtful."

"He still expects a full apology when she's feeling better," continued Gomez.

Morticia huffed, "How ungallant!" she exclaimed, "where _is _the Addams honour?"

"Fester can be quite spiteful sometimes," agreed Gomez.

"Of course," replied Morticia, "it's part of his charm."

"Oh," said Gomez abruptly.

"What is it darling?" asked Morticia.

"I just realised that Pugsley is still waiting for Wednesday to come to their tea party," replied Gomez.

"Oh dear," said Morticia, "I suppose we'd better tell him that she isn't coming."

Gomez offered a hand, which Morticia delicately accepted, and they both went to inform their son that he would have to pick another activity for the time being. Both upset that their daughter would never know the joys of drinking embalming fluid, but happy that the little mystery had been solved.


	3. Feeding the Tropical Fish

**a/n: Since I finished _Where Did We Go Wrong _I decided that I should probably update this one. I actually wrote this chapter a while ago, but I couldn't figure out how to finish it. **

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it, let me know if you do (or if you don't). **

* * *

"Children!" called Morticia absentmindedly, "Come here please."  
The children, who were outside playing in the rain, came running back into the house, muddy feet leaving a trail across the living room carpets. Morticia eyed the mess, mentally taking note to ask Lurch to sweep it up later (or perhaps spread it around a bit more). The children stopped obediently at their mother's feet.  
"Yes Mother?" asked Pugsley on behalf of himself and his sister.  
"Did you feed all of our pets this morning as I asked you to?" Morticia asked.  
"I fed Kitty!" announced Wednesday.  
"And I helped Grandmama feed the alligator," added Pugsley.  
"You fed Cleopatra. You _always_ feed Cleopatra," said Wednesday.  
"I left some food in Aristotle's bowl, I couldn't find him," said Pugsley, "but I figured he'll show up when he gets hungry."  
"That's very sensible dear," nodded Morticia.  
"I fed Homer," said Wednesday, "it took me a _whole hour_ to catch a fly for him."  
"And I fed Zelda and Fang," finished Pugsley.  
Morticia began counting silently to herself, checking off the numbers on her fingers as she did so, "What about Tristan and Isolde?" she asked.  
Wednesday and Pugsley looked at each other, then, guiltily, back at their mother. They shook their heads.  
"We're sorry Mother," said Wednesday.  
"That's all right darling," said Morticia forgivingly, "it's still morning. Don't worry children, I'm sure your father's fed them something or other."  
The children nodded simultaneously, their guilt lifted.  
"Can we go finish playing funeral?" asked Pugsley.  
"You're playing funeral in the rain?" asked Morticia.  
"It always rains at funerals Mother," said Wednesday, matter-of-factly, "so may we go?"  
"Of course darlings, have fun," Morticia dismissed them.

Morticia wandered upstairs, looking for her husband. She found him napping on a chaise lounge in their bedroom. Not wanting to disturb his slumber, she lay down on the small piece of furniture beside him. She leaned her head against his chest, listening to each deep breath that he took. Waiting for him to wake up.  
It didn't take long, the scent of her perfume wafted in the air around them and made its way to his nose.  
Gomez's eyes opened slowly, the lids still heavy from his nap, "Tish."  
Morticia sat up upon hearing his voice, "Darling, you're awake."  
Gomez sat up, reaching his arms around her waist, leaning his body into hers in a gentle hug, "Happily so, Querida," he said, he began to nuzzle the curve of her neck.  
She made a half-hearted effort to push him away, "Gomez darling," she said, "I came in here to ask you a question."  
"What question?" Gomez asked.  
Morticia searched her brain, trying to remember just what her question was. The rain running down the window, and the touch of her husband had distracted her. She smiled, content, but confused, "I don't remember darling."  
"Oh well," said Gomez, he bounded up, startling Morticia slightly. Now on his feet, he clapped his hands together, his enthusiasm building as he became more awake, "Might I suggest a game of checkers?"  
"Checkers, Gomez?" asked Morticia.  
"Yes, I was dreaming about playing checkers," replied Gomez.  
"Oh," said Morticia, "All right darling."

They went downstairs and commenced their game. They'd each taken half of the other's pieces when Fester came into the room.  
"Gomez, Morticia," he announced.  
They looked up from their game.  
"Yes Uncle Fester?" asked Morticia.  
"I was just wondering," said Fester, "have the fish been fed yet?"  
"Oh yes!" exclaimed Morticia suddenly.  
"Oh, okay, it's just that they looked a little hungry," said Fester.  
"No," corrected Morticia, "I just meant, oh yes, that's what I forgot. Gomez darling, have you fed Tristan and Isolde today?"  
Gomez shook his head in the negative, "No querida, I thought the children were feeding the pets this morning."  
"They were, but they forgot the fish," replied Morticia.  
"Well, that's okay," said Fester, "Morticia, do you mind if I feed them?"  
"Not at all Uncle Fester," replied Morticia.  
"I think I'll join you," said Gomez.  
"Gomez!" exclaimed Morticia, "what about our game?"  
"Querida," reasoned Gomez, "see, in my dream, we only got halfway through our game, then something stopped us. I didn't see what it was. That's why I decided to play it out in real life, to find out. It must have been Fester."  
Morticia nodded in understanding, "I'll pack away the game, you can go and help Fester feed the fish."  
Gomez kissed her hand in thanks, then he turned around and pulled the noose that hung from the ceiling.  
"You rang?"  
"Yes Lurch," said Gomez, "I believe I saw some left over yak in the ice box, would you please fetch it. I'm going to feed Tristan and Isolde."  
Gomez removed a lit cigar from his pocket and placed it between his lips.  
"Yes, Mr. Addams."

Gomez and Fester waited patiently in the living room for Lurch to return with the yak. Fester chatted idly with the fish, who did not chat back.  
Lurch drifted into the room, carrying the large slab of meat.  
"Ah!" exclaimed Gomez, "You're here!"  
Fester removed the top of the fish tank and Gomez took the meat from Lurch.  
"Here you are Tristan, Isolde," said Gomez enthusiastically as he dropped the meat into the tank.  
The fish thrashed in the water, and promptly hurled the bone back out at Gomez, who ducked, causing it to fly at Lurch, who caught it with ease.  
"Hungry, weren't they," commented Fester.  
"I'll say," agreed Gomez.  
Fester looked at the mounted fish head on the wall, "Do you suppose he's hungry too?"  
"Nonsense Fester!" exclaimed Gomez, "why, he's got Cousin Farouk's leg to munch on if he gets hungry."  
Lurch moaned and reached up for the leg, he gave it a small shake, in the vain hope that he might prompt the head to finish its snack. It did not.  
Gomez eyed the bone, which Lurch had placed delicately on a silver tray, "I'm suddenly feeling a bit peckish," he announced.

Morticia floated into the room, "Gomez darling?"  
"Yes Cara?" asked Gomez.  
"I've just sat the children down for lunch, would you like to join us?" she asked.  
"Ah Tish, you always know exactly what I want!" exclaimed Gomez.  
"Of course," replied Morticia, then, coyly, she added, "Bubbeleh."  
"Tish! That name!"  
Gomez made a dash for her arm. Just as his lips reached the first of her fingertips, his stomach let out an intruding grumble.  
Morticia smiled at Gomez, "Lunch first, I think dear, Bubbeleh later."  
Gomez nodded feverishly, and allowed her to escort him out of the room, to the lunch table where their equally hungry children awaited a large pot of toadstool stew.


	4. Would the Real Granny Please Stand Up!

**a/n: Sorry for the (massive) delay in this chapter update, I kept starting it, and then not being able to go very far (it was a difficult plot to come up with), but anyway, here it is (finally), I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

"Nobody appreciates me anymore!" announced Mama loudly at breakfast one day.

The members of the Addams Family looked up from their burnt toast and henbane tea, startled at the intrusion to their otherwise silent meal.

Morticia smiled politely, tilting her head slightly to the side (in fact, it was so slight that the only person who noticed any change to her posture was her husband), "Now Mama, you know that's simply not true."

"Of course it is," replied Mama petulantly, "Why, nobody even comes to ask me for beauty advice anymore."

"Mama," tried Gomez, "That's because you've already given us enough advice, our family has more beauty than any other family on the street."

Mama looked around at the rest of her family. At Fester, who was arm wrestling Thing for the wishbone of the toast. At Lurch, who was trying in vain to tell Fester that there was none. At Cousin Itt, who had gotten yam jam in his hair and was frantically trying to get it out. At Wednesday and Pugsley, their faces both hidden behind crumbs as they kicked each other under the table, in an argument over who got to use the guillotine next. And finally at Morticia and Gomez, one who was staring kindly at the older woman, and the other who was staring hungrily at his wife.

"That as it may be," said Mama, "I still think that you all don't appreciate me. I mean, look," she pulled at her shawl, "I got a new tear in my shawl, and not one of you has thought to compliment it yet."

Morticia eyed it thoughtfully, "It is a lovely tear Mama, I'm sorry I hadn't noticed it. But please don't think that's anything against you, I just-"

"_Too late_," said Mama dramatically, "I'm going to go and spend the rest of my days with the turtle, and least the _turtle_ appreciates me."

With a sweeping gesture Mama stood and left the room, her nose in the air.

"Oh dear," murmured Morticia.

* * *

A little later in the morning a frustrated Wednesday came hurtling down the stairs and into the room where her mother was painting.

"Mother!" she whined.

"What is it Wednesday?" asked Morticia, concerned.

"I can't get my hair to braid this morning, it keeps getting tangled up," she complained.

Morticia ran an affectionate hand atop her daughter's long, and slightly tangled, hair, "Oh dear, I see that."

"Can you fix it for me?" asked Wednesday, thrusting her cactus brush forward.

"Of course I can darling," said Morticia, taking the proffered brush.

Morticia began gently tugging the brush through her daughter's hair. Then she stopped.

"Actually darling," started Morticia, "I have an idea."

Baffled Wednesday turned to look at her mother.

"Perhaps, if you ask Mama to help you with your hair, she'll feel less neglected."

Wednesday thought it over for a moment, then, dubiously, she took the cactus brush from her mother and gallantly left the room.

* * *

When Wednesday entered the living room he saw her brother and father were already attempting to show Mama how much they appreciated her. Pugsley was attempting to show her his dynamite caps, and Gomez was demonstrating how to do some Zen Yogi, in hopes that she may try to participate. However, Mama was unfazed, sitting beside the turtle, with her attention completely on the taxidermy, and the taxidermy alone. Wednesday stepped back into the doorway to watch the scene. Just as she was about to re-enter the room, Fester came barreling down the stairs.

"Look!" he exclaimed, "I mixed you a drink!"

Mama did not remove her gaze from the turtle, although she expressed a little huff of acknowledgement.

"What is it, Fester old man?" asked Gomez as he righted his position from his head to his feet.

"Well," said Fester, not really sure how to answer the question, "I mixed all of Mama's favourite poisons together, I'm not sure how it will taste though…" he trailed off.

Gomez eyed the suspicious looking concoction, "Delightful, I'm sure," he said with enthusiasm.

Lurch then slowly entered the room, with a tray of something that vaguely resembled the grey sludge that occasionally formed a skin over the swamp water. Wednesday decided that's probably what it was. Thing's box was also on the tray, Thing waiting patiently inside with a serving spoon.

Lurch attempted to offer it to Mama, who blatantly refused it.

"If Grandmama won't have it, can I?" asked Pugsley, eyeing the dish hungrily.

Lurch moaned in response. Disappointed, Pugsley turned back to his dynamite caps.

* * *

"Wednesday darling," came Morticia's voice from behind the small child.

If Wednesday was startled by her mother's sudden appearance, she did not show it, she turned slightly to face her mother (who was delicately holding the painting that she had been working on), while still keeping a close eye on the chaos that ensued in the living room.

"Did Mama refuse your offer?" Morticia asked curiously.

"No Mother," replied Wednesday, "I haven't made it yet, but I think she will," she nodded slightly at the petulant old woman.

Morticia observed the chaos thoughtfully, "Perhaps you may be right dear."

Morticia put down the canvas that she was holding. In a flash (or rather explosion, as Pugsley had just accidentally set off one of his dynamite caps), Wednesday's hair was in its signature braids.

"Mother," said Wednesday, "I have another idea, may I try it?"

"Of course darling," replied Morticia, she picked up the canvas that she had set aside, "I'm going to try something too."

Wednesday turned to leave as her mother elegantly drifted into the living room with a painting of Mama and the turtle.

"My," said Morticia as she reached Mama, "You've been sitting with the turtle for so long now, I can hardly tell the two of you apart."

"Yes," Gomez agreed, finishing the compliment, "you certainly do look similar".

"Will the real Granny please stand up!" joked Pugsley.

Before the rest of the Addams family could get their compliments (and jokes) in, Wednesday entered, followed by a trail of slime, which was of course, caused by the alligator that she had dragged into the living room by a frayed rope.

"Grandmama!" she called, "would you please wrestle the alligator for us!?"

Mama turned slightly, eying the angered creature's snapping jaws as Wednesday struggled to keep it under control. Mama smiled softly.

"You do appreciate me!" she said happily as she got up with far too much vigour for a woman of her age and leapt at the alligator.

* * *

The rest of the family heaved a simultaneous sigh of relief, knowing that all members of the family were happy again.


	5. You Rang?

**a/n: Bit shorter than the other chapters, but I thought it was about time I updated.**

* * *

Lurch had been a butler to the Addams family for so long now that he didn't even remember with which generation of Addamses he had originally gained employment. Not that it mattered, somewhere along the way he had become a permanent fixture in the kooky family and no one would ever have it any other way.

Lurch was different from the Addamses. He was beyond the definition of tall, even as a child he'd found that set him apart from the other children. He held himself differently. He was more reserved, to the point where he was almost mute. But none of this had ever bothered Lurch.  
In his mother's eyes, he was perfection personified. Nothing was too good for her darling son. Mother Lurch always made sure her son was satisfied, and would never rest until he had everything that he deserved, which she believed was everything.

So, for all of his youth, he lived in two worlds. One, where he was seen as the most hideous being on the planet, and the other, where he was seen as the most important.

He found the position at the Addams' household advertised at the specialty shop where he bought his trousers from. If he found it strange that the only requirement for the position of the family butler was "Must be able to play the harpsichord" he never voiced the opinion.

When he showed up to the interview he thought it odd that no other applicants were there.  
_Perhaps they've not arrived yet_ he thought (the other applicants had been and gone, not even making it through the door before suddenly being overcome with the urge to flee).

The Addamses were impressed by how handsome and well groomed Lurch was. How succinct he was in his speech; and when they tested his butling skills, how very efficient he was. The Addams family admired him greatly, but it was different to the way his mother adored him, the Addamses treated him as an equal. For the first time in his life, Lurch felt as if he had found his home.

So whenever the house shook, as it often did, with the ringing of that old bell, Lurch was all too happy to make his way to whichever room the family summoned him from in record time. No matter what the task he always completed it, even if sometimes he felt that it was somewhat bizarre or questionable.

* * *

The sound of the bell quite literally shook Lurch from his reverie. He groaned as he placed his feather duster in the crook of his arm and made his way down stairs.

He arrived in the kitchen just as Gomez let go of the noose and turned around to face the tall butler.

"You rang?"

"Lurch," Gomez said, reprimanding, "you're getting a bit slow old man."

"Sorry. Mr. Addams," apologised Lurch.

"Quite all right Lurch," said Gomez then, pointing at the highest shelf, he continued, "could you get that down for me?"

Lurch obliged, quite easily reaching the skull Gomez requested. Lurch briefly observed the archaic head, wondering from which creature it had come, before turning his attention back to Gomez.

"Mrs. Addams would like this mounted on the bannister," instructed Gomez.

"Yes, Mr. Addams."

Lurch left the room and headed back up the stairs, skull in tow.

* * *

Lurch thought to himself, as his body rigidly manoeuvred its way through the decaying house, about the absurdity of the task he had just been set. He wondered if, he ever went back in time and told his younger self what he would be doing with his life, he would believe himself. Lurch often wondered exactly why he worked for the Addams family. The Addamses had a different version of logic than the rest of the world. He and Thing often had conversations late into the night about their previous day's antics. But Lurch never questioned the motives of the family, he just did as they asked, and only occasionally protested with a groan. He had never once thought about leaving the family to go and find a 'normal' occupation.

For, he thought, what could be more normal than this. The family was always kind to him, and treated him with respect. They weren't cruel, as his peers had been while Lurch was growing up. They never overcompensated in their kindness. In the Addams family, he had found friendship, but more importantly, he had found his family.

Which is why he never never wasted any time at getting to them when they needed him, and why he was always all too happy to answer their call, "You rang?"


	6. I Always Look Better by Candle Light

Morticia gently placed her knife and fork down in the centre of her plate and delicately wiped her mouth with her napkin, "That dinner was absolutely delightful Mama."

"Yes," agreed Gomez, "and how ingenious of you to put the yak eye in with the eye of newt!"

"I just followed the instructions on the box," said Mama bashfully.

"And how cleverly you did it," complimented Morticia.

"Well," said Gomez, standing up, "shall we retire to the living room?"

The family agreed and each member of the family stood up and left the room. Thing collected the dishes and handed them to Lurch, who carried them into the kitchen to wash.

* * *

In the living room Morticia sat up tall in her peacock chair, knitting a sweater for Kitty, who she claimed would be getting chilly this time of year. Especially since Gomez and Fester had broken the ceiling fan in the basement and they couldn't get it to turn off. Gomez was on the floor beside her, doing his zen yogi and trying to read a book while stealing glances at his wife.

Fester and Mama were in an enthralling game of dominos, which they weren't actually sure how to play, but figured that with enough dynamite anything was fun.

Pugsley and Wednesday were trying to pull one of the rugs apart thread by thread.

"How's your book dear?" asked Morticia.

Gomez smiled at her, "Riveting," he replied, "who ever knew there were so many ways to tie knots."

"I thought there were only two?"

"Well, I've read bows, that was chapter one. I haven't gotten to nooses yet," admitted Gomez.

"They've probably saved the best for last," reasoned Morticia.

"Ah ah, you got a line of five dots, five dots, and two dots," shouted Mama, "that means it's my turn to blow it up!"

"Aw," whined Fester as he slid the stick of dynamite over to Mama.

Triumphantly Mama set it off. The explosion rocked the house, then in a fit of sparks, the lights of the grand house blew.

"Oh," said Morticia after they'd been sitting in the dark for a few moments.

They heard the groan of Lurch, then Mama spoke up, "I'll see if there are any candles."

A few crashes were heard as Mama walked away.

The family listened as Mama slowly fumbled her way through the dark.

"I found them!" they heard her call from the depths of the house.

"Wonderful Mama," said Morticia, raising her voice slightly, just enough to be heard.

The sound of crashing followed as Mama made her way back to the living room.

"Here we are."

Although the family could not see, Mama's arms were laden with candles, and one torch.

"Gomez, may I have a match please?" asked Mama.

"Certainly Mama," there was the sound of striking, and then Gomez's face was visible through the gloom.

He lit up the torch first, which he then took from his mother and passed to his youngest.

"Thank you Father," said Wednesday, she carried the torch across the room to where Pugsley still lay on the floor. She handed the torch to her brother as he sat up. The children resumed their previous activity.

Gomez lit the remainder of the candles. He and Mama handed them out to the rest of the family. When Gomez made to pass a lit candle to Uncle Fester the bald man shook his head.

"Gomez," he said in such a way that Gomez felt he had forgotten something.

He had.

Fester took a light bulb from his pocket and put it in his mouth. The room lit up.

"Fester," suggested Gomez, "why don't you go and see if you can't figure out how to get the power back up.

The room suddenly became more dimly lit as Fester took the bulb from his mouth and replied enthusiastically, "Sure!"

He put the light back in his mouth, and as he walked away the room become progressively darker.

"Oh, I do hope he can fix it," said Morticia.

She was trying to resume her knitting, but was finding it difficult as she had no where to place her candle and was attempting the task one handed.

Gomez sprung to action, taking the candle from his beloved, "Here Cara," he held both her candle and his own near enough to her that she could see what she was doing.

"Thank you Bubbeleh."

He dropped the candles. Thing was surprisingly quick at picking them up before the flames spread anywhere.

Gomez had already made his way halfway up his wife's arm before someone tugged at his sleeve.

He stopped to see who the culprit was.

"Father," it was Pugsley, torch in hand, "Wednesday fell asleep," he pointed the torch in her direction.

Gomez looked at his watch, and then his pocket watch, "Querida," he said to his wife, "were you aware that it's after two in the morning?"

"Already?" asked Morticia, then putting down her knitting and standing up she continued, "I'll get Wednesday into bed. May I have my candle dear?"

Gomez looked about him for the candle, Thing handed it to him, "Thank you Thing."

He passed the candle to Morticia, she shuffled off with their daughter.

* * *

Morticia and Fester returned to the living room at the same time. Morticia sat back in her chair. Fester stood in the centre of the room.

"Well, I couldn't do it," he announced.

"Oh well, Fester old man, we'll call an electrician tomorrow," comforted Gomez.

"And to top it off," continued Fester, "I need to be recharged," he put his light in his mouth to prove the point, it flickered and died.

Morticia passed him her candle, "I'll share Gomez's," she said.

Gomez moved closer to her, holding the candle between them.

"Mother?" asked Pugsley.

"Yes dear?"

"Why don't we light a fire?" he pointed the fireplace.

"That's a wonderful idea Pugsley," smiled Morticia proudly, "Lurch?"

Lurch groaned as he walked to the fire place, he made to light it. Then he stopped. He turned back to Morticia and Gomez, "No wood," he explained.

"Oh well," shrugged Mama, "I always look better by candlelight anyway."

Gomez looked at his mother for a moment, then agreed, "It does bring out the wrinkles."

Mama smiled proudly.


	7. I'm Your New Neighbour

**a/n: Finally updated. Sorry to you all about the wait. Work and uni (the usual excuses). I promise to start updating more at the end of the semester. **

Arthur Henson was staring at the house across the street. He didn't know why, but there was something about that house that just gave him the strangest feeling. Charity, his wife, came out of their own house, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. She stopped when she saw he was looking at something, moving to stand beside him, she followed his line of sight. She too, saw the house.

"Arthur, dear?" she wondered aloud.

He started as if he didn't know she was there, coming out of the trance-like state he looked toward his wife.

"Yes?" he asked, feeling almost confronted, although, he didn't know why.

"Why were you staring at that house?"

"I don't know," came the reply, "there's something about that house…it makes me almost wish we hadn't moved here."

"Oh Arthur," Charity dismissed him, "we've barely been here an hour and you're already regretting it. This place is fine, you're just tired from moving," she raised the tray slightly, so he noticed it in her hands, "come, let's have some tea and finish packing after we've both had a bit of rest."

Arthur nodded in agreement, "All right."

They sat on the front verandah, each on an unpacked box, with a third between them to rest the tray.

Charity poured the tea and handed Arthur his cup.

"Thank you," he took a tentative sip, "this is lovely Charity."

She blushed in response. And then, their moment was interrupted.

* * *

"Hey! Pugsley!" a whine came loudly, "that's not fair!"

"It is too Wednes, it's _my _turn to carry the sack, you got to last time!" replied an equally loud voice.

Arthur and Charity looked across the street. Two oddly dressed children were tugging on a sack, the contents of which appeared to be alive and moving. The husband and wife exchanged a look _these were their neighbours?_

"Oh oh!" both the children's voices sounded.

Arthur and Charity jumped up in shock. _Bats_ were escaping from the bag!

"Look what you did Pugsley!"

"Me?! That was your fault!"

At the sound of the raised voices of the children the front door of the house swung open and out came an elderly woman.

She ushered the children inside quickly and the bickering subsided.

* * *

Charity looked at her husband, "These are our neighbours? Arthur! They had bats in a sack!"

Arthur just stared in shock.

"Arthur!"

He shook his head, "I knew that house had a weird vibe."

"Are you going to do anything?" she asked.

"What can we do?"

* * *

With a groan their neighbour's gate opened. A woman, of average height and tiny frame exited through it. She was clad in black with a veil and parasol to complete the ensemble. She carried a small black clutch, clearly on her way to do some shopping. She walked in small, quick steps, and within an instant she had disappeared around the corner.

"Well," said Arthur, unsure as to exactly how he ought to finish that sentence. His wife wasn't paying attention, she was still peering into the yard of the neighbours.

"What kind of a dog is that?" she asked, wary of the answer.

In the yard a large, bald man had appeared, he appeared to be playing catch with a dog. The small bundle of hair ran after the ball, squealing all the way.

"Itt!" called the man, "get ready, this one's going to be hard to catch!"

He threw the ball overarm, it landed in the dirt in front of him.

"Weird," he remarked as he picked the ball back up.

The dog seemed to be speaking gibberish.

"You're right," agreed the bald man, "this would be easier to play inside."

The pair took off, the man through the front door and the, well, it couldn't have been a dog, thought Charity, whatever it was went inside through the second story window.

* * *

"I couldn't explain that one if I tried," remarked Arthur.

This time it was Charity who was speechless. She tried to sip her tea when a loud engine roaring interrupted her.

The strangest car had pulled up outside the neighbour's house. A man of magnificent stature emerged from it in full Chauffeur gear. He went around to the passenger side, and pulled something out of the glovebox. It was a small box. As the tall man walked away the lid opened. And of all things, a hand peeked out from inside. It appeared to notice the Hensons and gave them a polite wave, before shutting the lid of the box and disappearing.

"Did you just-?" asked Charity, not even sure of what she had just seen.

"I believe so," replied Arthur.

"What is going on at that house?" asked Charity.

Arthur just shook his head.

The front door of the house opened and a man walked out. He was the first normal looking person the Hensons had seen.

"I'm going to introduce myself and find out," whispered Arthur.

"Oh dear, please don't" said Charity.

Arthur ignored her, stood up, and walked across the street.

The man appeared to be doing some maintenance on the fence. As Arthur got nearer it looked almost as if the man were filing the metal into a sharp point. He shuddered, but the man had seen him now, Arthur could not turn back.

"Well, hi there!" exclaimed the man with a broad grin, just visible beneath his thick moustache.

Arthur smiled awkwardly.

"Gomez Addams," the man introduced himself, "I'm your new neighbour!"


	8. Ever Seen a Train in Orbit?

**a/n: I haven't updated in a while, sorry about that. I've been beyond incredibly busy. I'm going to try and update a bit more regularly from now on. **

With an a keen eagerness in his eyes, Gomez stared fixated on the object in front of him. The small engine chugged along the tracks at an increasing pace. It was nearing the bridge allocated, by Gomez, as the point of destruction. As it got closer, Gomez excitedly waited for the impact.

Another train also rushed toward the bridge with no signs of slowing. Gomez had this down to a fine art. Both trains had been precisely placed on the track so they would reach the bridge at the same time…from opposite directions. He counted down in his head, knowing the exact second the trains would meet.

With a loud _crash_ both trains exploded into the air in a fit of smoke and sparks. Gomez whooped in childlike glee.

The trains hit the floor with an ungraceful thud.

* * *

Gomez had received his first train when he was just a young boy, just slightly younger than Pugsley, he mused. Ever since he had always had a fascination with the hobby, which got increasingly more dangerous the more he learned about explosives. He loved to share his hobby with anyone and everyone.

When he first got the train, he had no track, no other trains, no explosives. He would take the toy to the top of the stairs and place it carefully on the bannister. The train would roll down. Miraculously it never toppled sideways off the edge of the bannister, it always continued its course to the very bottom of the stairs, at which point it would go flying off, hitting whatever was in its path with an impressive _smack. _Usually this was Lurch.

The Christmas of that year his Mama gifted him with a complete train set. Tracks, small trees, tunnels, bridges, and to Gomez's particular joy, a second train. He set the track up right there beneath the decaying Christmas tree, he put both trains on the track facing each other and with a powerful push, rammed them straight into one another. Both trains fell off the track, much to Gomez's delight.

By the time he was twelve, Mama had set him up a room especially for playing with his trains. He now owned a large number of tracks and trains, he even had a few wind up trains. Now he was beginning to experiment in explosives. He hadn't quite managed to explode an actual train yet, but exploding the tracks was just as much fun.

As he grew older, his love of trains continued to increase, as did his train collection, especially those that had been reduced to shrapnel.

When he was twenty, he bought his first electric train. Now that he could control the engines, he found it was easier to figure out the timing exactly to crash them into each other, and more importantly, blow them up. His friend, Thing, was particularly good at controlling the trains, and Gomez would often let him take control of them, so he could focus on the dynamite.

Then he met Morticia. She'd never operated a train before, but Gomez discovered that she was just as thrilled as he was by them. They were soon married, and she became his partner in crime, and trains.

Then they had their first child. A son. Gomez was delighted. He looked at his beautiful wife, and his little boy and was filled with that same glee that his trains gave him. A year passed and he barely noticed that he had rarely touched his trains in that time. Until his he found his boy chewing on a train one day at the top of the stairs.  
_Eleven months is old enough to blow up a train_.  
He took Pugsley to the tracks and handed the boy the explosives. Now he could share his hobby with his son.

And then he had a girl. When Wednesday was just four months old, Gomez and Morticia found Pugsley trying to teach his sister how to crash the trains into each other. It was the first time the pair bonded.

Gomez loves meeting new people, and finding ways to connect with them, entertain them, get to know them. And he loves his trains. So whenever someone new came into the house, he would never hesitate to ask the question, "You ever seen a train in orbit?", and to his shock, most of them would nervously chuckle and answer "No…"


	9. Of Course I Play the Piano!

Lurch played the simple piece again. Slower this time. Wednesday watched, trying to remember everything he did. Then it was her turn.

On each of the keys, Lurch has written a letter. His handwriting wasn't the tidiest, but Wednesday could still decipher it.

She pressed the keys, trying to mimic Lurch's sequence. _ B. _

She looked at him for confirmation. He nodded a silent _well done_. Wednesday beamed up at him. As they were about to move on Morticia walked into the room. She halted when she reached the pair.

"Wednesday, darling," she summoned, "That's enough for your lessons today. I need your help with Cleopatra."

"Yes Mother," responded Wednesday.

The small girl clambered from the harpsichord stool and took her mother's proffered hand.

"Cleopatra is refusing to eat," explained Morticia, "so I need you to distract her, while I try and get some food in her."

Wednesday nodded. She then paused, thinking hard.

"Okay Mother," she said after a moment's though, "I have a plan, are you ready?"

"Yes Darling," replied Morticia as she picked up a fork and the plate of meat.

Wednesday stood as high as she could on her toes and reached up to tickle Cleopatra's chin. Sure enough, Cleopatra opened her mouth, the plant version of smiling in glee. Morticia got some food in the plant's mouth.

Wednesday ceased her efforts and smiled as her mother cooed to the plant, "Now Cleopatra, masticate, masticate."

Cleopatra reluctantly did as she was told and swallowed the food.

Morticia handed the empty plate and fork to Wednesday, "Would you take these to the kitchen Darling?" she asked.

"Yes Mother," Wednesday nodded and took the dishes away.

Morticia turned her attention back toward the African Strangler. She could hear Lurch tinkering away on the harpsichord. Contentedly she hummed along and she stroked Cleopatra's chin.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her small waist.

"_Cara mia_" a voice coursed into her ear like an electric current.

She turned her head slightly so her husband was visible in her peripheral vision, "Gomez," she purred.

Then Gomez leapt away from her with a sudden energy, he kowtowed to her, "May I have this dance?"

"Of course darling," Morticia replied.

Gomez righted himself and offered her a hand, which she took gracefully. She allowed him to lead her into the next room where Lurch was playing the frivolous music.

The couple began their dance. Lurch, who had until now been playing contentedly with his eyes shut, looked up and saw he had an audience. He slowed the tempo to a gentle waltz. Morticia and Gomez noted the change and slowed their dance, pulling their bodies closer together in a soft embrace as they swayed to the music.

The gentle atmosphere of the room continued for several minutes until, as with all things in the Addams Family home, it reached a cacophonous and explosive end.

"Pugsley! Give it back!" shouted Wednesday, as she and her older brother stormed into the room.

"No! It's mine!" retorted Pugsley, equally as loud as his sister.

Morticia and Gomez had stopped their dance. Observing the chaos before them.

Pugsley was holding a small toy grand piano close to his chest, and Wednesday, arms crossed and red faced in displeasure, stood tapping her foot at a quickening pace.

Gomez intervened, "Children, what's -"

Wednesday cut him off, turned to her parents and pointing an accusing finger at her sibling "Tell him to give it back!" she all but screeched.

"No! It's mine!" Pugsley repeated.

Wednesday's face began to scrunch up, she was either about to scream or about to cry and Lurch wasn't keen on finding out. He plucked the tiny piano from Pugsley's grasp.

The boy elicited a surprised "Oh!" as the toy left his possession.

Lurch tucked it beneath his arm and awaited an order from either of the adults in the room.

"Thank you Lurch," said Morticia, relief flooding her voice as the noise in the room had ceased.

Lurch nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Now, darlings," she addressed her children, "what is the matter?"

"Pugsley took my piano from me when I practising!" exclaimed Wednesday.

At the same time Pugsley replied, "She was making too much noise and I needed silence for my experiment!" then he turned to his sister, "Besides, it's not yours, it's mine."

"You weren't using it," she replied weakly.

Gomez and Morticia exchanged a look. Their children usually got along and were well-behaved, but every so often there was a moment like this, where chaos broke out.

"Wednesday," Morticia addressed her daughter, "did you ask Pugsley if you could borrow his piano?"

Wednesday bowed her head, "No Mother, but I-"

Gomez coughed a warning.

"No Mother, I know I should have, but-"

Another cough.

Wednesday turned to her brother, "I'm sorry Pugsley, I won't use it again unless you let me."

"That's okay Wednesday, I'm sorry I took it from you," replied Pugsley maturely.

Morticia smiled, glad her children were able to work this out.

Gomez turned to Pugsley, "What experiment were you doing son?" he asked enthusiastically, apparently having forgotten the drama that had occurred moments earlier.

"I was trying to bake dynamite into a soufflé," replied the boy.

Morticia's eyes lit up, baking and explosives, an ingenious combination. Gomez saw the look in her eye and instantly knew that she wanted to assist the boy in his efforts.

"Wednesday, do you have something you'd like to ask your brother?" he addressed the youngest Addams.

Wednesday smiled sweetly at Pugsley, "Pugsley? May I pleeeaase play with your piano? I need to practise for my lessons with Lurch."

"Sure Wednesday," replied Pugsley.

Wednesday smiled in glee, and hugged her brother. Pugsley was startled by the sudden affection but warmly patted her back before ending the embrace and taking the toy from Lurch, passing it to his sister.

"Pugsley," said Morticia, with that enthusiastic light still in her eyes, "would you mind if I joined you in your experiment?"

Pugsley nodded, "Sure Mother, that'd be great!" The two went off to the kitchen where Pugsley's burning soufflé awaited them.

Wednesday and Gomez stayed behind.

Gomez sat cross-legged on the floor beside his daughter who was looking a little lonely and jabbing unenthusiastically at the keys. She smiled when she saw her father joining her.

"Need any help with that practise?" he asked her.

Wednesday smiled, "Can you even play piano Father?" she asked sceptically.

"Of course I play the piano!" exclaimed Gomez in mock offence.

To prove it, he mashed the keys a few times, producing a sound that was in no way musical.

Wednesday laughed and leaned into him. He put his arm around the small girl in a gentle hug. She began to tinker with the piano keys, trying to remember all that Lurch had taught her.

**a/n: Sorry about the delay with this latest chapter! Don't know how well my characterisation went in some parts of this, I'm not really sure how the Addamses go about solving sibling rivalry - I really don't see it happening that much. **


End file.
